voidtreckerexpress | How about if I just hide

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How about if I just hide

Who: Little One and People
Where: Around the Hire carriage and other locations
When: Between day 13 and day 22 of Merriment
What: Little One hired the fancy carriage for a week and blew over a hundred points on junk food snacks because that was easier than processing anything that happened on the last mission.
Warnings: Child assassin stuff might come up, sickness mention in last prompt

[Before the Platform. Closed to roommates if they want.] Once she had made her way to her room after the mission she hadn't left. She had enough stashed food to not need to leave her bed except to go to the bathroom, always when she could hear no one out in the corridor. Most of the train had been sleeping then, all exhausted from saving everyone and so she could pretend to be as well. To hide under the blankets and pretend to sleep.

She hadn't slept though, not properly. Only when the train forced it. Instead she had thought a lot. Memories that weren't hers, memories that belonged to Buttercup Sanzo mixed with memories that were her own.

It was stupid, she hated it all. It had all been fake, that world, a family, friends, a world where she was not only liked but also powerful.

That wasn't for her. She was not Buttercup Sanzo. She wasn't even Buttercup. That was just a name Tony had given her. Over a year ago. A name she had started to almost think about as her own.

But it wasn't. It wasn't hers. She had no name. She didn't have a family. Her sister was gone and for what? She had obeyed orders to prove herself, to show that she was loyal to the shadow god but then she had been whisked away to this train. She had broken every rule. She barely prayed anymore. She hadn't killed anyone. Monsters yes. People trying to end worlds yes. She had stabbed people she knew, when she had been Buttercup Sanzo and she felt bad for that.

She shouldn't feel bad about that. It was what she had been made for. A hand to hold a dagger, a soul to do the shadow god's work. But then this train. This stupid train had torn her from all of that and put her in this place with people who were so Good and yet nothing like she had been taught they would be like. They cared for each other. They loved, they argued, they threw their everything into saving strangers on distant worlds and she did too.

They saved her when she got into trouble. They fed her sweets and they asked nothing in return. They gave her no orders outside of combat. They taught her. She hated them all and yet deep inside she knew it was a lot more complicated than that.

But as complicated as all that was she had at least gotten used to it this last year. That city had been something else.

A father. A brother. Knowing that even if she messed up she would get to be part of their family. Just thinking about it made her furious. Was it possible to be jelous at a fake version of yourself?

Because the more she thought about it the more she hated Buttercup Sanzo. But more than any of that she hated that it had been done to her at all. That her mind had been twisted. That she had gotten stuck and even attacked those she knew.

So she lay and she fumed and pretended to sleep.

[Day 16 and Beyond. Hire carriage corridor] Curiosity had her leave her room. Platform days were always interesting. People arrived. People left.

She watched those that walked away. She knows a couple of them but one she knows very well indeed.

Priestess Lightning. She had met her on her very first day. Back when there had only been ten of them. Now there was just... Eva and Peter. They were all who were left.

She couldn't cope with this. It was too much. She didn't even want to be in her room anymore. Didn't want to see anyone. The train was bustling, people felt better and new people were arriving. She didn't want any part in this.

She found her way to the hire carriage, she had lots of points. She was good at this job even if it was not one she had chosen. She put in the information and paid the points for a week. There. She could hide here.

It had an ICP with access to all the films in the cinema and so that was perfect. Horror films were a good way to de-stress.

As were sweets. Through the next few days the only times she could be found was when she snuck down to the nearest shop terminal to buy some sweets or chocolate or a bottle of fizzy drink.

[Day Nineteen, throughout the train.] By day nineteen she felt a bit more confident to do a supply run. She aimed for late at night when most people should be asleep.

Library first, to nab a couple of books, some magazines. Horror films were great but her mind wouldn't settle, she needed more things to stop it from thinking.

Another run to the shop, more sweets, more chocolate. The game room to grab a pack of cards.

Last stop kitchen. She grabbed cheese and biscuits. Any cakes that she could nab. Never all of anything, one here, one there. She wanted hot milk and honey... She glanced around. It was quiet now so hopefully she would have enough time to make it, before anyone walked in.

[Day Twenty One, Medical]

She had woken up when the train had returned her to bed with stomach pains so bad she just wanted to curl up and scream. She had curled up, tried to watch a film. But she hurt too much, she felt like she wanted to throw up. But she couldn't.

She couldn't be sick. Even safe inside here where she was bothering no one. Being sick made her useless and though she couldn't argue that watching films for the last few days had been useful... She knew that if needed, she could have left. If ordered she would be ready.

But if she's sick. She can't. But being sick on the train isn't like being sick in Gauig. They have medicine here. She knows very little about medical but soon she is on a quest, to sneak in and grab what she can.

Sneaking into the medical carriage is a lot harder than getting into the kitchen, but she moves quietly, stays low and makes no sound even as she feels terrible, her stomach roils and she wants to cry out.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I don't know," Koumyou counters, taking a drag of his cigarette before continuing. "...I would have fought to keep it too, if Dev had been part of it."

The enemy had made a miscalculation in the illusion, in that one detail.

At the mention of Devero her scowl grows even greater. "Yes. I do be thinking you would be." She stood tensely, closed of.

"He did be saying. He did be wanting to be living in the reality where you did be loving him."

It turned out that that reality had been the correct one, the real one. She had been wrong.

Hm, this was going about as good as expected, really.

"What I'm saying is," Koumyou says quietly, glancing away, "if I'd been allowed to pick, I'd have jumped at the chance to have both Devero and... my kids."

Yeah, plural.

She blinks at him. He would have wanted both Devero and his kids. Kids plural. Genjo and... her?

She scowled. "Genjo do really be being your kid and Devero do really be being your... husband?" Was that the right word if they hadn't married. Were they married? She has no idea.

The point is both those people were important to the Sanzo. She was just some kid he knew. Even if they had smashed robots, drank tea and cleaned guns together.

"Boyfriend," Koumyou tells her, because while he and Dev did discuss marriage once, he had made the big guy promise to be absolutely certain first and... Devero has wisely not gone there again since. Smart man. It's not like Koumyou's a catch, disaster that he is.

He... wouldn't be a catch as a father, either. Maybe the illusory version had done okay, but the real thing was so damaged, who would even want that?

"You've always reminded me of Kouryuu -- Genjo -- when he was younger. I admit it's tripped some fatherly instincts, what few someone like me has."

Koumyou nurses a pull from his cigarette, and then continues when he lets the smoke out, "Perception is reality. If we both wanted that to be true, then it could be."

Boyfriend. She will try and remember that. But she frowned as he kept talking. He remembered Genjo from her? She thought of her brother, not her brother, whatever. He was pretty cool. It wasn't a bad thing to remind someone of him.

Perception is reality, except it is not. Because it can be warped, used against them.

It could be true if they wanted it. She isn't sure what the feeling is that fills her up, she's not sure if she likes it. She's not sure of much. She just stared at him. If they both wanted it to be true it could be? Just like that?

As if anyone were that easy. She scowled. "I do no be being her."

She's not that child. Buttercup Sanzo was a soft baby. She had parents and a brother and friends and...

She wasn't her. That wasn't something she knew how to be.

"And I'm not a mild-mannered college professor," Koumyou notes, "nor could I be even if I chose. There are limits."

Even if he decided the illusory version had been just as real as he is -- perception is reality -- he's bound to a sutra. There is no retiring from 'Sanzo'. Not even by dying, apparently, since he'd woken up on a platform with his original sutra in a bag on his back.

Yeah, there are limits.

"It's like when I first told you that perception is reality. What we choose to make real, is. I talked with an illusory copy of my son on that smoggy world... and I decided that he was as real as he needed to be. Who's to say otherwise?"

Koumyou glances over, through the smoke of his cigarette.

"What you and I are to each other can only be decided by us. Our perception is reality, for better or for worse."

He was not a mild mannered college professor, he was a priest. A sanzo. A very powerful one. Nothing could change that, just like nothing could make her anything other than what she was.

And he doesn't know her. But if perception is reality does that matter? She can be whoever she shows herself to be. She has kept her real self hidden so deep for a year now that she often doesn't feel like her at all.

What did she chose to make real? Did they really have a choice?

He might. He's a powerful priest who carries a piece of god. She's just a brat who was raised to be obedient and useful.

"You do be speaking like we do be being gods. We can just be deciding and that do be being how it is. That do no even be being how the world works."

"Of course we're not gods," Koumyou casually notes, "we're both far too reasonable."

For real. The Gods he's dealt with back 'home' are a bunch of self-important peacocks who love paperwork. They're ridiculously powerful creatures, but in terms of personality they're just... people.

And people are idiots.

"I don't decide how it is for the world, I decide how it is for me. And you decide how it is for you. Including what, if anything, I am to you."

Maybe he's just that weird adult who's floated robots and cleaned guns with her. He's not going to argue if that's the case... it's not even the worst case scenario.

Koumyou knows what he's like.

She blinked at that. Didn't he serve the gods? How could he say such things and not be fearful? Was he that powerful?

She wondered again how she had even ended up twisted up with a person like him. He's important, powerful, he speaks of gods as if he knows them personally. And he believed he could just make choices.

And that she could make choices. Choices were not something she had ever had. She followed orders. She did as she was told. Choice wasn't part of her life, especially not on this scale. Just deciding what he was to her.

"Oh."

She stared at him, she can't even begin to make this choice. It's too big. It's too powerful. She's so tired.

Koumyou's no mind-reader, but with how hard he's had to fight to get this concept across, and Buttercup's current reaction--

He watches her, and then asks gently, "Is that... such a strange idea?"

She was quiet and still a moment more but then nodded, with another small sigh.

"I did no never be learning about choices." She said quietly. "I did no even be needing to be making them before I did be coming here."

It's been a year but it's still difficult. Having to decide and do things, guess what is the correct path.

"I grew up a bit like that, in the temples. When and what to eat, when and where to sleep, when and what to train and with who, when to pray and which prayers, what to wear."

He'd always had a uniform, even once he outranked those who would have previously dictated his other choices for him. He's wearing it right now.

"It's an... adjustment. But I'm confident you can make it... if you choose to."

"I do remember when you did be being a kid." It was clear his temple had been a strict and unforgiving place.

She had never got to her own temple. "Yes it did be being like that, I did always just be doing what I did be being told."

And now she's being told to make choices. It's very difficult. "I do be being well trained though, so I can be trying." To adjust.

That's true, she'd met little Houmei with his shaved head and his terror of not knowing what he was supposed to be doing, just trying to stay out of everyone's way.

"It's hard," Koumyou tells her, "but if that terrified little twerp could do it, I'm sure you can too."

"Probably. I do no be being as much as a baby."

No offence. But he had been a baby. A baby who grew up to hold a piece of a god. So that was hope for baby twerps everywhere.

She could choose. But there was still much. He doesn't know her at all. She barely knows him. And...

"Devero did be telling me you do be being dead. On your world. You did be dying."

"That's true," Koumyou confirms, idly flicking the accumulated ash off his cigarette. "That was also my choice, ultimately."

And one he would make again without hesitation.

"You did be choosing to be dying?"

Why would he make such a choice as that? That made no sense. No one wanted to die. People fought hard to stay alive.

That was why killing was dangerous.

"It was Kouryuu or me," Koumyou doesn't seem too bothered by the topic, at least, taking another drag from his dwindling cigarette. "I wasn't strong enough to simply stand by and watch him be torn apart, so... I took the attack instead."

And was torn apart. Targeting Koumyou himself would have never gotten that result, he was too powerful. Targeting his son, though, that was different.

Kuoryuu or him. That explains it all. Or mostly does. She knows how much he cares for his son, he had died for him. To stop him being attacked, to stop him being torn apart.

Because he was his son. His family and he could not watch him be destroyed.

And that is the difference between them. That is the reason she can't... Her heart feels all tight and stupid again and she grits her teeth.

"You did be doing a big thing for him. You must have been loving him so much."

Was that what it took to love someone?

"Yes. But where I'm from, love is death."

And it's so much progress, that he even clarifies that it's like this where he's from, and not necessarily just a universal truth. He's not completely certain of this, deep down, but. It's a start?

"One of us was bound to die gruesomely, and the other was bound to have to watch."

The gritted teeth isn't missed by Koumyou, as he watches her through the smoke of his cigarette.

"I chose Kouryuu. I chose him as an infant, and I chose him when I died. Choices are important."

And learning to make them is important.

Edited 2021-08-23 03:37 (UTC)

Love was death? One bound to die gruesomely and the other bound to watch. Her chest feels even tighter to hear it so. Was that what is meant to love? Everytime there was love between two people one would die?

"Love do be being dangerous." She had always known it, it had been proven but then... On this train she had began to think she might be wrong. People loved, people made friends so easily here. As if it were not dangerous at all.

He chose Kouryuu, and chose him again to live when Sanzo died. A big choice.

"It is dangerous," Koumyou agrees, "but I would make the very same choices if I were to do it again."

His cigarette is pretty much used up, so Koumyou puts the butt out and tucks it into his sleeve, before sliding his hands into his sleeves like he so often does. He looks away. "Some people are worth the danger... and the eventual pain."

Like Kouryuu. And Devero.

And before them, Tenkai and Goudai and the rest of the first squad, who had all been the closest to family he'd ever felt. His very first friends he'd ever made.

...Each an agonized smear of blood in his last memories of them. Each a brick of pain he'd used to build the wall that makes him so aloof and hard to know, now. Even though he's tried to cast muichi motsu -- hold nothing -- aside, he's still been changed by it.

He is the moon, and the moon is a cold and distant thing.

Edited 2021-08-23 08:10 (UTC)

Some people were worth it? Was the pain worth it? She wasn't sure. After a year. She still had no answer.

But she is not like him, he died for his family. She killed her own. And that's why this is dangerous. She's not stupid. She knows she would never be capable of hurting him. But he's good. He's a priest.

He's very capable of hurting her if he were to know her true self. Perception might be reality but no amount of mind tricks is going to make her anything near his own son. If he thought her a threat to people he cared about more...

This is why choice was stupid. Because there were more factors. Some people were worth the danger but...

She scowled, all her words bunched up again.

"It's not a choice someone else can make for you," Koumyou adds gently after a few moments of this. "They can help, but they can't do it all."

How about if I just hide

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